


Iron

by notsafeforowls



Series: bitterness of blood [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Pre-Slash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 05:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14687211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsafeforowls/pseuds/notsafeforowls
Summary: In all fairness, Nate had assumed that the fangs in the picture had been a quirk of the artist’s questionable style.(Nate found the Legends; he hadn't expected one of them to be a vampire.)





	Iron

In all fairness, Nate had assumed that the fangs in the picture had been a quirk of the artist’s questionable style. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time that a picture had looked nothing like the reality (he’d always been surprised by how many people who sketched various weapons turned out to have probably needed glasses.) So Nate had gone down to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean in search of time travellers, or at least their corpses, and had been lucky enough to find at least one of them. 

In hindsight, the fact that Mick bore more than a passing resemblance to the sketch should have been meant that Nate had caught on a lot sooner than he had. Everything had been normal until Oliver Queen had been about to leave, when Mick had stood and suddenly looked at them like they were the juciest steaks he’d ever seen.

“I was in stasis for a long time,” he’d said, and Nate had got this strange sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach right before Mick had smiled and shown his fangs. “I’m hungry.”

His. Fucking. Fangs.

 

Which was how Nate had ended up lying on one of the beds in the medical bay as Mick carefully wiped at his neck with a sterilising wipe and attached a bunch of wires to him. 

Well, there had possibly been a bit where Oliver had freaked out at the thought of being dinner, and Nate had kind of shrugged because surely it couldn’t be that bad, and  _that_  had apparently meant that he was fit for the dinner table. Not to mention that Mick and Oliver had both looked disgusted when Nate had suggested he feed from Oliver. So apparently Nate was the least objectionable item on the menu.

According to the Waverider’s medical records, Mick had fed from half of the people on the team, so it obviously wasn’t fatal. The hemophilia would possibly put a dent in that, though.

“So, uh, how did you end up a vampire?” Especially one that still breathed, and had a heartbeat, and basically did a lot of things that Nate had always been led to believe vampires didn’t do. Not that he’d ever believed in vampires. “Have you been one for long?”

“The Time Pigs liked to try to give their bounty hunters a reason to come back,” Mick said, like Nate was supposed to understand most of that sentence.

At least it was an answer.

“You ready?” Mick asked as he settled down on the stool he’d brought in. He threw the wipe at the trash can but missed by a few feet.

“Uh, maybe? Is this a good time to tell you that I’m a hemophiliac?”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m going to bleed. A lot. You might want to grab a glass. Or a bowl. Maybe a bucket.”

“Oh. That. You’ll be okay. I’ve never fed from a gusher before, but I’ve seen it done. None of them died. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, though.”

Ah, so according to vampires or whatever the hell Mick  _was_ (really, he’d have to ask after Mick had his… lunch?) _,_ Nate was a gusher. That sounded, well, kind of gross and conjured up some pretty horrific images. He really hoped that nothing would be gushing, especially not his blood.

“No, it’s fine, I want to do this. I’m ready,” Nate said eventually as he leaned back until his neck was almost level with Mick’s mouth. He closed his eyes as Mick leaned towards him until he was close enough that Nate could feel his breath against his neck.

“This’ll only hurt for a second,” Mick murmured, and sank his fangs into Nate’s neck before Nate even really processed that.

It was an understatement, to say the least. There was a split-second of pain as the tips of Mick’s fangs broke the skin, but it was followed by a strange warmth that rushed through his body so quickly that Nate was sure it moved faster than his blood ever had. It was like some kind of drug, but better than anything Nate had ever had the courage to try. 

Nate was vaguely aware of the blood running running down his neck, and probably dripping on to the floor, as Mick sucked at the two little wounds, but he couldn’t bring himself to care until he felt Mick drag his tongue across them and pull away. Nate tried to follow, but was stopped by Mick’s hand on his chest, pushing him back down.

“That’s enough.” He was out of breath and wide-eyed, blood smeared around his mouth and running down his chin. It wasn’t a bad picture. In fact, Nate wanted to see him like this again more than he really should have. “I don’t need more now.”

Breathless, Nate lifted a hand to his neck, feeling for any injuries, but he only just managed to touch the puncture wounds before they healed completely. His hand came away with very little blood on it, too.

“That was… That was  _something_ ,” Nate managed, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as he tried to sit up. 

Mick looked him up and down before looking away quickly, muttering, “You can take care of that,” before he left.

Yeah. Definitely something.


End file.
